


To become a pet.

by LilithCaptor



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cussing, Enemas, Forced Drug Use, Human Auction, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, M/M, Oral Sex, Slave Trade, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithCaptor/pseuds/LilithCaptor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is a young boy, who like to spend his afternoons talking to Jade and Rose, reading some books, pulling pranks and playing video-games. But suddenly, his plastic paradise fades away. Days fly by in a hurry, as he tries to find a way to escape the hands of his kidnappers, who want to sell him for a good price.<br/>Scared and lonely, John is forced to live and deal with a mean blond man, but what he doesn't know is that he might have more feelings than hate for the sadistic older man.</p>
<p>PS.: I'm sorry for the summary, I promise the story's better ^w^'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Invasion.

I don't know where I am. I don't know what they want. I feel scared and I don't exactly remember anything. I remember being in my room, playing a game when everything happened. I heard the doorbell, and obviously I didn't think anything of it. I wish I did. I heard a loud noise downstairs, like a big piece of wood falling down, followed by the noise of heavy steps and various screams and questions that I didn't understand, they were muffled by the sounds of crashing. My first thought was to go downstairs and check if Dad was okay, like a ninja or a superhero trying to protect a person from whatever that was in there, but soon I remembered just how useless a 14 year old boy was in pretty much anything, and that for sure I wouldn't be able to handle whatever was happening, so I did what a whiny 14 year old boy can do: I started to cry and search a place to hide. I hid under my bed, which was a pretty obvious place to search for someone, but at the time with all panic and desperation that was the best I could think of. I heard more crashing as the noise became closer. I felt tears going down my cheeks, I felt my nose running, I knew I needed to keep quiet. I bit on my shirt and tried to stay as quiet as I possibly could given the situation. My door flew open and I saw a pair of mountain hiking boots come in, but that's not all I saw. The person had some blood on the boots, and that's when I did the worst mistake I possibly could: at the thought of my Dad's death and my own imminent future, I sniffled.  


I couldn't possibly explain how things happened from that point on no matter how hard I could try. At one second I saw a big hand grabbing my hair, and closed my eyes due to the pain. I was bawling and screaming for help, and I felt a smooth cloth being held against my face. It smelled like acetone, alcohol, rotten meat and a sickly sweet fruity smell all together. It was right against my face, and I was breathing heavily, inhaling more and more of that terrible substance. I felt my legs going woozy, and my hearing going faint. I felt like I was drooling and I fell down. My vision was distorted, the walls of my room looked like pictures, then darkened, and that's when everything went completely black.  


I woke up in a dark place, thinking everything was perhaps a terrible nightmare and I slept against the wall or something. I tried to lift a hand, which made me realize my elbows and wrists were tied against my back. That made me truly wake up and remember what happened. It was not a nightmare. My Dad was killed for sure, my head was aching and throbbing, I was probably going to get killed, I was completely helpless and a man I've never seen before kidnapped me. I was about to cry again but realized that could possibly make my situation worse, so I just emotionally numbed myself and started thinking on a way to escape. I tried to move my leg to get up. No luck. My thighs, knees and ankles were tied in a bent position in front of me. I couldn't keep my eyes opened for long, my eyelids were very heavy. I was leaning against a wall of some sort of metal, judging by how cold it was. I felt some slight movement in the floor, and realized that I was either on a train, a car, a ship or any kind of big transport. Heck, I could be in a carriage for all I knew. I laid my head against the wall just to realize that I had a bag made out of cloth over my head, which also made me realize I had a gag in my mouth. I pulled myself away from the wall, and noticed that my elbows were tied to a chain in the wall. That's when I realized there was no way I could ever escape from that place. I started questioning myself about this whole situation. "He just killed Dad. How far from a place does one have to be to escape that kind of crime?" I think. "I'm probably never seeing my city again. Who knows if I'll ever even get to see my country again? I wonder what I did to deserve this... Dad always took me to church, I tried my best to think God exists but now it's clear he doesn't. Why me? He didn't kill me on spot, so he wants me alive for something. He or someone else. Shit... That's it. I'm fucked."  


The time seems to hate me. I don't know where I am, I don't know where I'm going and I don't know what time it is. I feel hungry. How many days have I been I asleep? I feel thirsty. Will anyone miss me? "I just want this to stop..."  
As soon as I say that, the place jolts and I hear thumping getting closer to me. The lights gets a little brighter, at least that's just a bit from what I can see with the sack on. I see a shadow opening some kind of doors to the room with metal walls that I consider to be the last place I'll be in alive, making me see it's the back of a van. I hear a deep, raspy voice say: "Oh, I see you're awake. Let us see for how long."


	2. Why try?

I freeze. The man has a strong, deep voice, and seems to have a very muscular body. From what I can see through the mask, he is bald, but he may have a very short hair. My mind is working at 10.000 miles per hour, trying to think if I've ever seen this man before in my whole life. I didn't. My breathing gets uneasy, and I feel the need to breathe through my mouth, which I am currently incapable of doing due to the gag in my mouth. I feel that my chest is rising and falling constantly, as I gasp for air. I can feel drool fall out of my mouth but that's definitely the last item in my priorities list. "Come on, John! " I think to myself. "If you look like a wuss he's gonna treat you like a wuss! But... Do I really want to be treated as a man by this guy...?" As I continue doing my hardest to think clearly, as I'm using most of my brain strength to breathe, the man seems eager for an answer, and not in the good way.

-I'm talking to you, you piece of shit, do you need a beating to put your thoughts in order?! - He says, climbing onto the van and getting closer to me.  
-Hmm! Hmmph!

I helplessly try to say something, which proves to be impossible with the gag on my mouth. I can see him more clearly through the bag now. He is tall, tanned like a latte, and has some stubbles of hair growing in his head. He has light-colored eyes, that I can't identify the color as for now, due to the panic and the blurriness occurred from the tears forming in my eyes and the sack covering my face. The tears bring a stinging feeling to my eyes, and I would dare to compare this feeling with the one when I got salt in my eyes by accident, when I was six years old. "I miss that time, Dad was very worried. I miss Da--" my thoughts were interrupted by a stinging and painful sensation in the left side of my face, which also makes my jaw hurt a lot. I feel a slight taste of blood in my mouth, comming from two teeth in the back of my mouth and the side of my tongue. My tears really stream freely now, and I start bawling and screaming for him to let me go the way I can.

-Hnnng!! Hmmmmp!!  
-You better hear me out now, bitch! And you better behave, or else I'm gonna beat you until you drop dead, you hear me?!  
I nod with my head the best I can, seeing the man's hand get a little further from my face. I'm still bawling, and I can barely breathe. I don't know if I'll survive this anyway, maybe I'll be best giving up, but my gut tells me to see where this will take me. My survival instinct tells me to hold on and think, which is incredibly hard feeling light-headed as I am.  
The man takes of my mask roughly, almost making me choke in the process. The smell is awfully rotten, but since the van's doors are open it's much better than being with the fabric bag over my head. I look out of the doors: we stopped in a desert place by a highway. Anyone driving in the highway can see the van, I'm sure, but they won't stop. I don't blame them, though. They can't see me, so this is just a man getting something on the back of his van. The man pulls my chin away from the door, making my neck hurt.

-Don't even think about escaping! If you put one feet out of this place without my permission that's the last step you'll walk, got it?!

I nod once more, just now realizing how fucking stupid I might look for this guy. Just a 14 year old drooling boy who's crying for his fate. I'm definitely a wuss.

-See, I don't wanna hurt you, 'cause the reward's only in the game if you're alive. But there's nothing about beating the fuck out of you or breaking your bones, so you better behave. Do you understand this, stupid fuck?

I nod more calmly this time, trying to get the man's trust, to maybe get freedom in the future. Or maybe call the police on him. He has blue eyes and is wearing a doctor's mask to hide his mouth. My stomach growls, I am really hungry.  
The man pulls the gag out of my mouth, which pulls my face a little forward.

-Last time you've eaten?

My mouth feels numb, and I can't operate my tongue properly, so I let some sloppy words mixed with drool answer his question.

-W-what day is it...? - I ask, apprehensive that he might beat me for answering with another question.

-23. February 23. - He answers boldly.

-One day and a half... I think. -as I move back the bast I can to lead on the wall, I feel a wet and sticky substance on my buttocks. "Pee. I fucking pissed myself."

-I'll get you some spam and water. You eat it the more you can under 5 minutes. Got it?

I nod, agreeing to it. He gets a can from somewhere in the back of the van, that I can't see clearly, and opens it, throwing a spoon in the can. He opens the water as well. The spam tastes bad, it's probably spoiled, but it's edible. The water is warm, like it was on that van for the majority of it's "life" ever since the man bought it. He feeds me the spam very fast, sometimes putting the spoon so far back in my throat it hurts. He puts a straw in the bottle and lets me drink it, though very quickly. As soon as the five minutes are over, he simply gags me and this time blindfolds me. He pushed a pill far in my throat with his finger, and everything was dark again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I'll try my best to keep the chapters coming every week! This chapter was created while I was eating yogurt and procrastinating to do Karkat horns. :3


	3. For a different location

I wake up and everything is dark. My eyelids are heavy, and make want to close my eyes and wander back to sleep, but I hear a very... Human sound, and I open my eyelids to see what it is. My eyes take a while to adjust to the darkness, especially without my glasses. When I can distinguish things, I try to focus my eyes on the direction of the sound, finding two other boys and a girl. They seem panicked, all of them are humming through the gag, screaming, crying... The scene leaves me speechless, but even if I had words I wouldn't be able to express them thanks to the gag. The oldest boy seems to about 17, maybe 19. He has short green hair, and a dark blue shirt. The girl seems to be 13, she is brunette and has a beautiful short, curly hair and blue eyes. They are ruined by the expression of horror in her face, though. The youngest boy is probably 10. He has blonde hair, and seems to be in the edge of beating his head on the wall to break it and be free from this nightmare.  
I can barely contain myself at the sight of them. I know that someone wants me alive, but what about them? Where are we going? Those questions are really firing up against my head, but at the moment my main objective is to calm them down. I look at them, and try to give them a compassionate look. The boy with painted hair seems to get the message that at least for now things are going to be okay, but still cries. I don't blame him, and I would be crying if I could, by my eyes are too dry. I can hear The Man on the driver's seat talking to someone, and as I can't hear an answer, I believe he is talking on his cellphone. The Man drives for some more miles, and meanwhile I make eye contact to the two boys and the girl, and by the time the car stops, they were crying lightly. However, when The Man opens the backdoor, showing the woods behind them, and some kind of building, the youngest boy bawls again and the girl cries more heavily. The green haired boy just sniffs quietly, and closes his eyes.

-You, faggot, time to go. -The Man says, looking at me and grabbing a small, but definitely sharp pocket knife. I just close my eyes, expecting the cold feeling on my throat, but I notice that he is cutting the ropes on my ankles.

I am confused as he does so, but I try not to move nor look scared. He cuts the ropes that keeps my thighs and legs together, then the ones on my knees, and the last ones to be cut were the ones keeping my thighs together. He cuts the rope connecting me to the wall pulling me up with it. It's been so long since I've used my legs that they are wobbly, standing up hurts, and I don't doubt I might have some coagulated blood cells rushing through my legs. When I can finally stand up, he pulls me to a dark wooden house in the woods. As he is pulling me with the rope on my back, I have to walk backwards. I can see other men getting the other ones. My stomach growls, my tongue feels dry and my eyes burn again as they begin watering. I try my best not to emit any sounds, as not to disturb The Man, but my stomach keeps growling.  
We get inside the wooden house, and I try to get a good view of it. The floor is made out of dark wood, with traces of what seems like blood in it. The walls have some lists with names and maps. I can also see some blood marks on the walls, especially at the bottom. The walls have some strengthen parts made put of cement and iron, with chains on them. There's an old leather couch, some chairs, a table with syringes, a plastic box with "Make up" written in it, some different types of tools that I've never seen before, some ropes and a few racks of clothes. There is another door, probably the bathroom, but I'm not sure. Just thinking about a bathroom give me an urge to pee, and heck, I really don't want to remember this, but I know I smell like feces for a reason. I could do pretty much anything for some food, water and a bath right now.  
The Man ties me to a wall, taking my gag off.

-Any bleeding? -He says boldly, not doing more than his job required him to.

I shake my head, expressing no, as I try to get my mouth used to not having anything in it.  
The Man unties the ropes on my wrists, pulling me to the room, that ends up being a bathroom. He cuts the ropes in my arms, elbows and wrists, but with a pair of strong chains and handcuffs he cuffs me to the bathroom wall. The bathroom is white with a old mirror and a small black cabinet with some towels on top of it. It has a classic white toilet with a hose and a toilet paper roll by it, a big trash can, a silver shower, four chain rings on the shower's wall and a rug. The bathroom seems very clean. I would actually go as far as to say extremely clean, if it wasn't for the fungus infestation in a corner under the cabinet.  
The Man takes his pocket knife and cuts my shirt off. My body smells, I feel sweaty, and I can smell the pee and something else. "Fuck! Did I really... Oh my God..." I think to myself, as I can smell the pungent odor more clearly now. "Stay cool. Keep quiet and everything will be okay.".  
The Man unbuttons my pants and unzips them, pulling them down. I can feel the weight of my waste on my boxers. I am blushing, but there really isn't anything that I can do, so I keep quiet, fearing that he might stab me. The Man carefully takes of my heavy boxers, throwing them at the trash can and washing his hands throughly with soap. He turns on the shower, making the warm water flow right in front of me. Then he removes the cuffs from the chains and adds them again once my belly is touching the wall.

-You're disgusting as fuck. Like my job didn't have enough problems without the long trip ones like you. -He says, pulling my ass under the water. I would answer him with a great throwback, like "you're the one that kidnapped me on the first place" but I remembered that he can break my bones, so I kept quiet.

The Man washed me out with the hose, and once he considered me clean enough to work with, he took a tiny bottle of lubricant -that took me a while to read- and smeared it on the hose. I didn't have to be experienced to know where this was going. I tried to relax the best I could and give big breaths, but it was hard as I felt like crying. I am a virgin, in all ways possible, and if it were for me to throw that away, I at least wanted it to be with someone special. I tried to comfort myself with the thought that it wasn't a real person, and closed my eyes. I felt the cold tip against my entrance, and started to cry. "It's not real", "It's not happening", "It's okay", I think, while I clearly know it's not okay. The Man turns on the water and cleans me throughly on the inside, then making me sit on the toilet multiple times, making sure I was completely empty. Once it was done, he chained me on the wall again, and washed every place of my body with a loofah, then a sponge. Since my penis isn't circumcised, he pulled the foreskin back to clean the glans. It hurt so much that I bawled, but he just stopped when he considered me completely clean. The Man washed my hair, adding shampoo two times, conditioner and a cream. When I he finished he dried me and made me sit on the toilet's lid.

-You have some ticks on you, kid. -He said as he grabbed tweezers and a tiny bowl with alcohol, as well as a the classical brown hydrogen peroxide bottle.

Ticks. The last thing I expected. I look down at my ankles and notice two black bumps in my skin, engrossing myself out. He pulls them by the head, puts the in the bowl with alcohol, cleans the wound with water and hydrogen peroxide and repeats the process with other ticks. When he finished, I had over 30 ticks removed from my legs, arms and head.  
He dries my hair, perfumes me, inspects and brushes my teeth with hydrogen peroxide, toothpaste and some more hydrogen peroxide; inspects and clean my nose and ears, adds eyedrops to my eyes and cuts my nails. During all this time I'm so scared I can't do anything but shiver and cry silently.  
The Man dresses me in a short black latex top with some short black latex shorts, long black socks that go up my knees, and fetish black latex long combat boots. He applies latex shiner on the top, the shorts and the boots, then he adds cherry Chapstick to my lips. He lets me drink two cups of water, which made my shivering stop for a while. He cuffs my hands back with some furry handcuffs, and drags me to the outside again. As I leave, I stare at the other kids, and wish them luck with my eyes. They seem to notice, and I can see in their eyes that they'll try to be strong. He opens another car, a fancy black Maserati, I think it's a GranCabrio, but I am unsure about that. He covers the front seat with a clean, fleece blanket, and sprays the perfume he used on me all over the blanket. He ties me to the seat, blindfolds and puts a gag on my mouth with ease, since I'm so tired and hungry. Then The Man begins driving to the place that might be the last place I'll ever see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was made after a certain happening at a party that made me sad, so if it's bad, I'm truly so very sorry! While writing this I was hearing "Black Sheep" by Metric. It really tickles my creative side for some reason :3 feel free to comment <3
> 
> P.S.: This chapter had to go through some fixing, so I removed it for a while, but now it's back! Sorry for the inconvenience ^w^'


	4. How much a life is worth

I can feel the car's slightest movements, and I wish I knew how long it has been since I got in it. I can feel the car stop, the motor stop, the noise end. I can feel The Man getting off of the car, I can feel the floor go up, which makes me nauseous. I can feel him untying me and removing my ropes, and I can feel a heavy object being put around me. Probably a coat, smells like leather. On my head I feel a object, and it fits well around my head, making the pain in my heart grow bigger when I notice it's likely to be a fedora.  
The Man doesn't tie me this time, he takes me on his arms, carrying me. I can smell booze and smoke close to his face, which makes my nausea come back in full strength. "No use vomiting now... It would just get rid of the last bit of energy I have..." I think, when I start hearing some noises. Since I'm just so tired, words are blurry in my ears and dull in my brain. I feel scared, but I can't bring myself to cry. My only hope of escaping can only be fulfilled if I have, at least, energy enough to stand up, and crying would mess with the process. It's funny how one can literally feel it's brain turning to putty, if you actually stop to think about it. One moment you are just a young boy, pampered to the soul and being a brat; the other you can't talk, you can't move properly. I can feel my head going hotter by the involuntary effort of trying to understand the words being pronounced, putting all concentration in it. Other funny thing? You begin to notice how being alive is hard. One day you complain about the math homework, the other you try to protest with a potential rapist about the lack of food, but can't because your mouth is gagged.  
My thoughts are interrupted when The Man pushes my head down quickly, making me kneel, and pushes my body somewhere with his foot. When I try to get up I hit my head on something. "I am in a cage... Fuck... What do they really fucking want with me?!" I think.  
In that moment I don't like to admit I'm at the angry stage, but obviously I am. Even if I tried to deny it, there are stages to kidnapping, and I've noticed they don't happen with me only. You start scared, and you numb yourself emotionally and accept it. Even though I didn't acknowledge this at the time, my subconsciousness did this because it wanted the bad guys to believe I am useful to a purpose, therefore, no more harm would be done to me. When they do, however, your body gets hotter, your blood practically boils on your veins. That's the one I'm in. I, then, move to accepting, and expect something bad to happen.  
After some time, the man pulls me out and up by my hair, he holds me by the chains of the furry handcuffs that I can't break, and by my hair after someone else. Another man like him, holding another soul. I can hear the cries of someone behind us as well. My ears intercept a loud noise, something like "Next one!", and clapping. Then a bunch of numbers. "Wait... Don't tell me I'm being s--" The Man harshly pushes me as soon as "Next one!" is heard, and The Man removes my blindfold. I look in front of me, to see lots of different people dressed in fancy clothes. Men and women are looking at me like a diamond, which is hard to believe being treated the way I was on the last few days, like a rock. The noise is unbearable, and some words make their way to my mind. "Precious", "cute", "pale, black hair", "blue eyes", "tame"... "Virgin". The mention of this word makes it clear that I'm not here to do manual labor. No... I'm here to be bought as nothing more than a sex and torturing toy, that eventually breaks and is thrown out. I can't do anything. I just let them show me off. They make me kneel, grab me in weird places, open my eyes and mouth wide, open my legs. I'm tired, and I need every single bit of my attention to see who will buy me, so even if it ever was embarrassing at one point, it's not anymore considering that I am not a human being according to them.  
"5.000", "7.000", "9.500", "10.000", "15.000" "23.050", "32.000". A lot of numbers are thrown out there. A weird, soft and breathy voice murmurs "47.000". When I look at the one, it's a old man, incredibly old, I would say. I shiver and cringe on the thought of being used by him, with tears beginning to form on the corners of my eyes, but when the man with the microphone says "Last chance, three, two.. O--" a deep, muscular voice is heard. "62.000, cash.".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I was a real sloth making this one. I was hit by the waves of "I have no money", and got kicked out to my bf's house. Hopefully I'll get money soon and get back to my apartment :3
> 
> This chapter was inspired on recent events that have happened to a friend of mine once, shes is a real fighter! Put your hands together for B. everyone!  
> Also, I wrote this while listening to Helena, by The Misfits. A song filled with anger, nice vocals and great instrumental background. Yes, I am making the end notes long because the chapter is short. I am so very sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> IMPORTANT: For some reason the end notes on my first chapter keep appearing on the other chapters. Sorry about that.


	5. The blond man

My eyes follow the voice, leading to a blonde, tall and strong man. He was dressed nicely, in a black tuxedo, but he had a few oddities in him. He was wearing a orange tie, some dumb pointy anime shades, fingerless gloves, and had his spiked hair under a cap. He seemed much younger than everyone else in there, which made me scared. A young person bought another young person, so the reasons I could think of for this are that he either wants to torture me for fun, sell my organs or... Use me as some kind of sexual slave. I felt a shiver go down my spine, and heard clapping as he went somewhere on the back where people seemed to be paying, and I was dragged out of the stage. The Man put more perfume on my body, and added more eyedrops in my eyes. It's funny to think that I'm getting used to see the world with blurriness in my eyes, but it's a reality. The man gives me a glass of water and brushes my hair. He puts the gag in my mouth again, but this time it's a new piece of fabric. The old one was smelling, which is probably the reason he switched it for the new piece of baby blue fleece. He chains me to a wall while he adds a mat to the wired bottom of the cage.  


He unchains me and pushes me into the cage, covering it with a black fabric. He cuts a hole on top for the handle and carries me to a well lit room, which I notice from the hole on top, and hands me to the "fingerless glove" man, that takes me without much effort. I should be around 103Ibs, so that's not a surprise. He carries me outside and into a car, putting me on the backseat, then closing the door and turning it on. I constantly hit the cage walls because of the movement and the size of the cage, but I control myself not to cry. When the car stops he roughly takes me out and walks into his apartment. I can hear the clicking of the elevator's button and I can notice the shininess of the light. When he gets out he pushes the cage with his foot, and I hear him unlocking his door. He doesn't make any sounds other then breathing, and I wonder if he'll talk to me. He uses his foot to push the cage into his apartment and locks the door from the inside, then he carries the cage to a large, brownish wine room. He puts the cage on top of something and removes the fabric from the top of it. He pulls me from it by the neck and hair, setting me on a slightly padded black leather... Thing. I'm too scared to look around to know what it is, so I just kneel looking down. When I slightly look up he's staring at me, and as I keep looking for a while he jolts his hand up, as to beat me. I quickly close my watery eyes and put my head down, as to hide from him without the use of my cuffed hands. He doesn't deliver the slap, and I hear his loud, deep voice:

-Hear me out. You belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Your soul belongs to me, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. You have no rights now, do you understand this?

I nod, feeling his hand sharply remove the gag from my mouth, almost making me choke in the process.

-I asked you a question and I want my fucking answer. - He says in a sharp, angry and raspy voice.

-Y-yes. -I manage to answer the best I can.

-From now on I want you to address me as "Master" or "Sir", understood?

-Y-yes, sir.

-Good. You're going to stay a week on a cage to learn your place. Is this simple enough for your brain?

-Yes, sir.

-Good. Just one more thing: never, and I mean NEVER make sounds. You will regret breaking this rule. Ok?

-Yes, sir.

-Good boy. -He gently pats my head, and I can't help but to back away from it slightly, but the touch of his cold fingers in my head is calming after all I've been through in the past few days. 

He holds me on his arms and puts me on the floor, while he opens the cage and puts a mat and a blue fleece blanket on top of it. He's looking at me while he unlocks it, so I just look down, scared. He uncuffs my wrists and pushes me by the neck into the relatively big cage. I can stand on all fours on it without bending my back, and the fleece is very comfortable. It has a small opening for a plate, it seems, and the black bars are very thick.  


He locks me in it with a padlock, and looks at me while he goes get a pair of leather mittens. He tells me to put my hands between the bars, and he puts the mittens on them. Then he locks them so there's no way to take them out. I feel tired and I lay down. He walks out of the room and before he leaves he looks back, turns off the lights and locks the door from the outside. I let my body get cuddled by the fleece and go to sleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And he appears! I'm sorry at my (probably) poor interpretation of Bro's character. There isn't enough information to create a perfect description of his behavior, so... Yeah :c
> 
> I own some products descripted in this fanfic, so in case you want to check them out here are the names:
> 
> -Cage: Steel Puppy Cage (found at extremerestraints(.)com)
> 
> -Mittens: Strict Leather Locking Mittens (found at extremerestraints(.)com)
> 
> This chapter was created while listening to "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics.
> 
> P.S.: None of the behavior in this is made with the intention to be reproduced, for instance I do NOT recommend staying a whole week locked in a BDSM cage, since that could be dangerous for one's spine and blood flow. Please be responsible with any BDSM practices and remember that Safe, Sane and Consensual are golden rules (that are not exactly supported by the fic, but that's why it's a fic in the first place.).
> 
> P.S.S.: I love you all, thank you for reading and bookmarking, giving kudos, commenting and all that jazz. I really appreciate it :3 I try to check out the works of everyone that comments, bookmarks and gives me kudos, so I really like to discover your works and likes :3  
> Keep on creeping and being awesome guys <3


	6. Shades inside?

I wake up with the ramblings of my stomach and get up by instinct, consequently feeling my head beat against the top of the cage with a loud "thump". I let a little pain screech but close my mouth, remembering that I don't have a permission to make noises. I hear my stomach make a loud, rambling noise, and sigh. I really don't want him to hear me. I feel my back hurt a little, so I get in all fours and stretch like a cat, then laying an a fetal position. I use one of my hands to tap the bars. No way I could ever get out with those mittens. I hear an unlocking noise and see a light gling into the room, followed by a human shadow. This shadow is much smaller, and has a different hairstyle. I can see something in his face, but since it's so dark I can't make shapes out that well. Shades? "who would wear shades in this darkness?!" I think, but brush it off. I smell something like stew, and get on all fours again.

-Sup.

He sits in front of the cage, putting two bowls on the floor.

-H-hey... 

-I'm Bro's bro.

I tilt my head to the side, confused with his phrase. My stomach lets out a huge growl, making my belly hurt. I screech and say "ouch" out of instinct, and he puts his hand through the bars, patting my head. 

-Here, got you some soup. It's basically a whole lot of chicken broth with one spoonful of rice, some chicken, potatoes and carrots. You can't eat much yet, sorry. 

He says that and pushes the bowl through the designed space on the cage, and I smell it, it seems very nicely prepared. I look at him, waiting for him to uncuff me.

-What?

-Well... Can you... -I show my hands, seeing his face light up.

-Oh, sorry man, you just gotta dig right in.

I pout, then try to lick the broth from the bowl, making my chin completely wet.

-Yeah, sorry 'bout that. -He says, using his shirt to clean my face.

-Who are you?

-I already said that. I'm Bro's bro.

-And... Why am I here?

-No idea, but you are and I have to care for you when he's not home.

I can almost hear a bell ring when he says that.

-So he told you I need to go out, right?

-What?

-Yeah, I have to go out to exercise!

-I'll let it slide this time, but don't try to lie again, I got all the instructions to properly care for you. Now eat your soup.

-Alright...

I keep trying to eat the soup, and either the soup is very great or I'm very hungry. I think it's both of them, because I lick the bowl until there's nothing left. He pulls my chin up and cleans my chin and my mouth with his long, red sleeve. 

-There you go... -He passes his hand through the bars, pushing the empty bowl out of the cage and another one, full of water, from which I drink messily.

-T-thank you, Master...

-The fuck, man? Master's Bro, I'm just your Master's Bro bro. 

I wonder if he himself understands what he says. After eating and drinking I feel very heavy, and lay down again.

-Already sleepy? Good night, pooch.

I close my eyes as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Merlin I am finally back! I am SO very sorry for my delay, I am no worthy of thy trust and appreciation ;-;   
> Just as a tiny little disclaimer: I was kicked out of my apartment, lived with my boyfriend, got the money, payed again, am back \o/  
> Unfortunately in my boyfriend's house I had limited access to internet, even though I tried my best to keep writing. This one SUCKS, and I know it. The next one will be better because this one was made as soon as I got back so... Yeah. I'm so very sorry. Thank you for all the support and know that I love you <3
> 
> M83- Midnight City is an epic song, isn't it? ;3


	7. Name's Dave.

I wake up to the sounds of 8-bit music, weirdly enough it sounds like MGMT's "Kids", but in 8-bits. Even though I feel like I'm awake, hearing this makes me think I'm dreaming, and the iconic eletric sounds make me feel home, so I don't open my eyes, just turn to the other side and pull my blanket. When I turn I hit my knee, which makes me remember that I'm not home, so I lslowly open my eyes and look over to the direction of the sound. The room has it's dim lights on, but now I can see his face. Bro's bro. I really want to know his real name, calling him that way is just awkward.

He has the same hair tone as his brother, so pale it's almost white, like his skin. Wearing shades inside again, still weird. Black short sleeved skirt with and image printed on it, it's a scary skull of some sort. "Crimson" is written over the image, and "Ghost" underneath. "Probably a dumb lame-excuse for a horror video game" I think. He's wearing tight jeans and red sneakers, and is holding a gameboy of some sort. I can see the reflexes of his game on his shades, it's a kid running from some red tentacle-filled crabs of some sort. "Just like the video" I think, remembering the original video "kids". He's sticking his tongue from the left corner of his mouth, and seems pretty concentrated at jumping over barrels as the creatures get closer.

I get on all fours, capturing his attention. He turns off the game and puts it to the side, and looks over, still poker-faced.

-You're up, finally. I've been waiting like, half an hour.

-Wai-- I stop to cough, soothing my morning voice- waiting? 

-Yup. Bro's out doing some important business man shit, so it's just the two of us.

-Oh... -I look at his face, thinking why he's telling me this.- So...?

-So we're alone. We can have some reeeal fun. -he smirks, and I feel scared by the elongated "real" he said.

-W.what do you mean by "reeeal fun"? 

-You know, discovering new things... -He kneels in front of the cage and puts his hand on his pocket, grabbing something long and stiff.

-N.new? Like what? -I ask stuttering in fear. 

-Like this.

He takes his hand out, pulling the object with it. It's a package of candy mints. I let out a sight, even though I still shake a little.

-Thought you needed something sweet to lighten up. Here. 

He opens the package and takes a candy, putting it on the palm of his hand. He pushes the hand through the bottom bowl opening of the cage, and I feel my cheeks burn as I stick my tongue out and lick it out of his palm. He rubs my chin with his fingers while I do so, and when I look at him again he has a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face. "Shit... What the fuck's going on?!" I think when I feel my cheeks burn a lot.

-Don't go falling for me, I ain't your Master.

-W.what?! No! I'm just ashamed I ate out of someone's hand, that's all! -I speak so quickly that all those words came out as one.

-I see... Bro can't know 'bout this, alright? He's keeping you on a diet, you know.

-Yes... I understand.

I move the mint around in my mouth, noticing how they are similar in certain aspects. They both are quite nice even if they appear scary, and they both seem to lack the capacity to smile. 

-Are you hungry, Sargent SnugglePuff? -I laugh a little

-Who's that? -I ask while laughing softly, my first laugh in some time.

-That is you. -My laugh starts fading, still having some effect on me.

-Yes.

-Are you allergic to anything?

-Peanuts. And Harlequins.

-Aww man, seriously? I was about to bring some Harlequin shaped peanuts for your breakfast! -he says, smirking. I laugh, he really does make me feel calmer about being in a cage with my hands on locked mittens. -Welp, gotta figure something else now. What about some waffles that I'm taking off of the freezer, fruits that I can get from the fridge, commercialized Chantilly and bottled honey with some not-so-fresh Grape juice loaded with conservatives?

-Are you implying you won't cook?

-You get things quickly! If you ever get homemade blame Bro, I can't cook for shit.

I laugh softly as he goes out of the room to get the food. While he's gone I lay on my back with my legs in front of me, and think about my life. Bro seems pretty gentle, even though firm, and Bro's bro is cool. I really hate calling him that.

He comes back, a bowl on each hand and a sort of bottle under his chin. He sits with his legs crossed and puts the things on the floor. 

-Here you go. -He passes the bowl with the cut waffles through the cage, and I hungrily eat half of the bowl. Damn industrialized tastes good.

-Ummm... Bro's bro?

-Yeah?

-May I have some juice? Please?

-Sure. -He gets the bottle from the floor, and I notice it's a nursing bottle.

-Really?

-That or you would get sticky with juice all over your face. Just suck on the lil' nipple thingy and drink it. 

I blush a little, and he presses the bottle against the bars. I drink all of the juice at once, it's very sweet.

-Thank you... BB.

-BB? The fuck's that?

-BB for Bro's bro.

-I'm Dave. 

He really does match the name. I wonder what Bro's name is, though. I continue eating until I'm done, and he takes the empty bowl out, putting the one with water in. I drink from it, and when I'm halfway done I feel full. 

-Done! 

-That was quick. Bro's gonna be back in like, two hours, so you better go to sleep. When he gets here he's gonna clean you up, feed you and train you. -My body freezes when I hear "train you". I feel my hair go spiky due to the goosebumps.- Is everything fine? Temperature okay, comfortable?

"Yeah, I'm in a human cage with my hands locked inside of mittens and my legs aren't straight for long periods of time, not to mention I need to pee and do some other stuff, and all I have eaten was served in bowls and can't take those sticky clothes off. Other than that everything is just--"

-Perfect.

-Good. Sleep well.

He pats my head through the bars and takes all the mess outside, turning off the lights and closing the door. I close my eyes and await the evening, for "training", whatever it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been apologizing a whole lot recently, haven't I? I got very sick during the last two weeks. I have a tumour in my lungs, ain't that nice? I'll have a surgery in June/July but yeah. Never bothered me too much but recently it's been giving me nausea, dizziness... I fainted 3 times. I've been pretty much going from home to the hospital and from the hospital back to home. Ugh. Anyway, I'm very sorry and I want to thank everyone who has read, commented, bookmarked and "kudo-ed". You guys are my heroes, I love you so much! I used all of my freetime to bring you a good chapter, so that's the result. 
> 
> Made this while hearing to two songs: MGMT- Kids, 8-bit and Mystery Skulls- Money.


	8. If I got a penny for every time I blushed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes depictions of an enema. I tried to make them the less graphic as I could, but if that still triggers you, feel free to skip this chapter.

My bladder wakes me up. I have no idea how long it's been before I used the bathroom, but it feels like a long while. I try to call someone so that they could help me by pawning the cage. No sound. I try to use my voice.

-H... Hello?

-Hello. -says a deep, raspy voice suddenly. Bro is sitting on a leather bed by the darkest corner of the room. Due to how scared that made me, some urine forced it's way through my body and into the latex shorts.

I let out a quick high-pitched scream, but quickly shut myself up.

-I thought we had agreed in no talking, pet. -He says, walking to the front of the cage. 

His voice is different from Dave's. Dave's voice seems to be one with the silence, smoothly breaking it and speaking in a deep voice. Bro's completely shatters the silence, and it scares me every time he speaks. Not because he has a deeper voice than Dave, but because he remains completely silent and expressionless most of the time, so when he talks it's a jumpscare.

-I... I'm so sorry, Master. I needed to go so bad and... Ah... I still do and... I just wanted to call someone to take me. But I don't know if you'd let me go... Not that you're mean or anything! It's just that... Ahh... I really, really gotta go!

He remains expressionless for a while, but then his lips curve into the slightest smile. The kind that it's almost impossible to notice. I'm lucky I did.

-I see. I want you to behave, do not bite or try to run away, you'll regret it. -The way he talks is almost like a scolding: he definitely means what he's saying, but he seems to make a joke out of it. A expressionless joke.

-I won't, Master, I promise, just please help me! -I stumble in my words, uniting all of them into one.

Bro opens the gate with a key on his leather belt, and imediatly pulls me out and picks me up like a donzele, probably seriously considering a escape.  
Honestly, I don't think it'll ever happen. My joints hurt a lot, but I know I can't escape. Dave seems cool enough, so if he keeps me company, I don't think I'll even need to escape. But obviously, always on the back of the ear there's the question: "What am I here for?". This is the only thing that can motivate an escape plan.  
He takes me to a bathroom that's connected to the room. I didn't notice that door up until now.  
The bathroom seems fancy, the kind that one would see in decoration magazines, programs and five star hotels. Beautifully tragic Transilvanian 5 star hotels. It's got cream colored floor tiles that seems very expensive, a supposedly fluffy white rug, a very fancy sink with red flowers on the black marble contertop, matching the scarlet red walls. Some black drawers are underneath the sink's marble countertop, and there's a large white tub with lion's feet underneath it. A white toilet is between the sink and the bathtub.

-Try to stand up. -he says, breaking the silence once again and letting me stand on two feet while holding my wrists so firmly that it seemed that they would crack. He lets one of my wrist loose to lock the door, and I can notice that this key is permanently attached to the door. 

I try to stand up as ordered, but my joints hurt a lot, and my full bladder isn't helping.

-Ughh... I can't! I gotta go! -he grins, and for my surprise, I got even more scared than I was.

He stands behind me and puts his hands on my hips. I completely freeze, as I always do when I'm completely frightened. He puts his thumbs in each side of my latex shorts, pulling them down. I open my mouth a couple times, only air comes out. I feel my expression staying the same, but feel the warmth of tears flowing. He pulls the shorts down to my knees, and surprisingly, hugs me from behind, crossing his arms around my chest.

-Shhh... Was that scary? I'm sorry, puppy. I was just helping you out. Don't cry... Shhh...

It was at this moment that half of me thought I was getting paranoid by making myself believe that everyone wanted it's way with me and that I should stop worrying. The other half thought I was developing Stockholm syndrome and should run away as quickly as I could. I ignored both of those and stop crying.

-Here's how we're gonna do. I'm going to remove the paws and hold you by the shoulders so you don't fall, and you get this over with.

I blushed. I could feel the heat in my whole face, on my neck and on my chest. The need to go was still higher then the shame.

-Ok.

He removed the paws with a key on his pocket and held them with a hand. He put his arms under my shoulders and held me. He put his head in the nook of my neck, making the pointy shades lightly scratch it. My heartbeat went higher. I let it go.  
42 seconds of pure awkwardness and splashy sounds. I could feel my temperature go up by each second as my whole body turned red. I never blushed so much.

-Done?

That made me shiver. I didn't want to shiver at this moment. The awkward level got even higher.

-Y...yes.

-Good job. -he ruffled my hair while saying this. I just didn't blush more because it was impossible. -now we're gonna do something that you're gonna hate.

He turned me around and locked the mittens back in my hands, and then flexed his knees to be as high as me. I imagine he was looking at my eyes, but it was impossible to tell.

-Don't be scared. We have to clean you up on the inside. It'll be okay.

-No! Please...

-It's okay, it'll be a nuisance rather than pain. You just have to be strong for a little.

"Maybe I would do it if you weren't here watching!" I thought, but just kept quiet and looked down.

-Good boy.

He pushed the flowers to the corner of the countertop and laid me on top of it, removing my shorts. He took a black box out of one of the drawers. Inside there were many big sachets, similar to bags of saline solution, but with "enema solution" written in them instead. I felt a small tear roll down the side of my face, but I looked to the side, so he wouldn't see it.  
He picked a bag with a hose connected to it. The hose was sealed on the end, and he used a pair of nail clippers to open it. He attached some kind of small nozzle to the end of the hose and used some wet thing he took from a bottle to "make it easier". This nozzle was much thinner than the one The Man used, so I was relieved.

-Now relax. Just close your eyes and relax.

I did as told. I stayed that way for about a minute, and felt the tip against my hole. I breathed heavily, but tried to relax as he pushed it into me. It was much easier this time. He lifted my legs, and told me to stay that way for some time. He began filling the tub, and brought his attention back to me.  
At a certain point, I felt very uncomfortable, and told him that. He told me it was almost over, and then told me to contract. I did, and he pulled out the nozzle, and threw the hose, the nozzle and the empty bag on the trash. He picked me up and put me on the toilet, and just told me to relax. When I did, immediately I contracted again, blushing more than I deemed possible.

-It's ok, that's supposed to happen. Just relax.

It took me a while to completely do it, but I was finally over. My blush stayed the same all over the whole thing. The expressionless man just sprayed my bottom with the water hose and said:

-Good job.

He flushed and pulled me up by the back of my short latex top. He turned the water off, the tub was halfway full. He told me to get in the tub, which I promptly did. He folded his leather sleeves up to his elbows, showing his muscular arms, and put on white medical latex gloves. "I can't believe this is really happening..." I thought, while he washed my bottom. I felt small and ridiculous in his hands, but there was nothing I could do. He told me to stay up, and he dried me. Then he put my latex shorts back on, and after removing them, putting them back on felt twice as uncomfortable as before.  
He threw me over his shoulder as a potato sack, and took me back to the cage, so that the classes could begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Disgusting...? Yeah, a little. I tried to make this the least graphic that it could possibly be. I know what you're thinking: "if you didn't want to do it, why?"  
> Even though this a fic, I hate when the characters are robots that don't have the basic needs. For instance: they don't eat, don't drink, aren't awkward during their first time, never go to the bathroom... Even though he (John) is a character that was never depicted doing such things, as a human being, he does. Let's be honest: we all do. Sooo... Yeah. Sorry about this. Now back to the normal me:
> 
> Sorry for taking so long to post this, I've been extremely busy!!! I'm so so sorry. Also: I had the biggest author block of all times, but don't worry: it's over and I got one chapter waiting to be posted after this one! Thank you for those who stayed by me, patiently waiting for this. You are epic. I love you so much.
> 
> I made this while listening to "Murder murder" by "And one" Do any of you actually hear those songs? Let me know ^w^  
> Thank you for all the kudos and bookmarks. If you have any constructive criticism or comments about this... Unusual chapter, please write it down below <3


	9. Fuck up.

He sits in front of me, simply staring as I'm locked inside the cage. I stare back at him, waiting for instructions. He breathes deeper, I know he's going to talk.

-We should begin by the etiquette. -"Holy fucking shit. How is this even possible?!" I think, after feeling scared even though I knew he was going to talk. He proceeds talking as if I didn't just jump like a stupid scaredy chicken. I've gotta thank him for that some time. -You should always direct your word to me by calling me "Master". You're doing this so far, but fail and you'll get fucked up.

I gulp and nod.

-If you're talking to any other person, call them "Sir". I am your only Master, do you understand?

-Y.yes, Master. -I say, feeling a bead of sweat going down my forehead.

-That's a good boy. Now let me get you out of there so we can train positions. -"Positions?! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" -Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Not yet.

He opens the cage, and I slowly get out on all fours. I wouldn't try to escape him. He scares me, but somehow makes me feel safe. This is the same feeling as having a guard dog, I suppose. You know it can kill you, but you feel safe with it. 

-Now my good boy will sit on it's hind legs and put it's hands on it's knees. -That would sound cute, if he weren't saying it with a straight face and a deep voice.

I do as I told, and he rearranges my hands, making the palms face upwards, like a slave would.

-Yeah... That's my good, good boy.

He pats my head, and his hand is warm. He massages my head with the tip of his fingers, doing circular motions. I haven't felt a hand touch me like that in a long while. I close my eyes, I've gotta admit that I really do enjoy it. It feels... Antique. It feels like something I've felt before. I suddenly realized why: Dad did it. I start silently crying, hoping he won't notice. He does. He pulls my head to his chest, massaging it. My ear was directly against his heart. It was beating strong. I feel like his heart alone could win me in a street fight. Mine gets quicker. He notices that and kneels, hugging my body entirely, and putting his face on the crook of my neck. Our hearts are competing. Mine got more agility points, his's is stronger. None of us really care. He takes his head off of my neck, and lays it on my forehead, leaving a tiny kiss there.

"Why do I feel that way? Why's my heart getting all thumpy over a... Hug?! Gotta stop this bullshit right now...". My hands cross around his back stronger. My arms are locked in place. There's no way to escape him. I look up. "He is a good guy on the inside, he's just a bit scary. But he definetely is a good guy." He looks down. I jolt up.

Now I really fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Yeah. This was teeny tiny. I was listening to "You've got time" by Regina Spektor and my hand started moving on it's own. I hope it did a good job. Do not fret! This WON'T be an excuse for not posting this week, consider it a "I'm sowwy" gift. Or bonus, I don't know. I'm really on the fence about this one, so tell me what you think about it in the comments! Oh, and thank you for all the kudos, bookmarks, comments... I really appreciate it, and always try to answer <3  
> If you have any thoughts, make sure to let me know. Writer's block just loves me.  
> Welp, hope you've enjoyed this little façade!


	10. What did I put myself into?

Chapter 10-

"Shit." I think. I back away. "Shit." His mouth is half open. "Shit..." There's a reddish spot on his inner lip, that's where my incisive beat against. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!".

I fucking kissed him.

I. Motherfucking. Kissed him.

"Why did I kiss him? I don't like him, I don't even like boys! Fuck! He's gonna kill me!" As I silently think to myself in confusion, I put my head down, expecting some kind of forgiveness for what I've done. Even though I'm fourteen, that was my first kiss. Well, my first actual kiss with a real human being. My mind gets cloudy with thoughts, practically steaming. I was thinking about a lot and failing to concentrate in at least one of the subjects that rushed through my head. As I try to concentrate in "why" rather than "how", the deep voice breaks my confusion and abruptly turns all of my thoughts in steam that dissipates into the air, leaving my mind completely empty and focusing on his phrase:

-Why di'you do this?

The thing is, as soon as he asked that question, my mind began having new thoughts that reproduced amongst themselves, filling my mind as quickly as before. I didn't have any idea. I don't know why I did it, but if I told him that, would he believe it? I, myself, can barely believe it. My gut didn't make me do it, because my actions are only made through my brain. I could have stopped this if I wanted to. 

But I didn't.

His face changed completely. It looks angry, firm, straight. His posture is straightened, and he points an index finger to the floor. I get on my knees and lay my hands on the floor, trying to show my respect for him. Even without looking I can feel that he's staring down at me in what feels like complete repression. I really do feel like a dog.

-I have no idea... Master. -I answer shyly, still unable to look him in the eyes. My cheeks burn from the adrenaline punch that hit me. 

-You shouldn't have done this, kid. That is our first rule: don't do anything that I don't order you to do.

-Yes, Master. I'm so sorry... I don't know what got to m--

-Stop bringing the topic back like a spoiled drama queen. I didn't order you to talk. And get back in the position you were. Hands on knees, pet.

That brought me to a stop. I never considered apologizing to be bad... But really, when I do think about it, all I'm doing is remembering the person of how bad I fucked up... This man really isn't bad. I'm bad.  
I get back in the position, still not daring to look up. "He was being nice to me, and yet I had to be such a stupid idiot and get back to where we started!". I feel disappointed in myself... Like a dog who feels guilty after breaking the owner's stuff. 

-Second rule: you will accept any punishment I think you deserve without complaining. I know what's best for you.

-Yes, Master.

-Third and last rule: always tell me if anything's wrong. This is extremely important, don't hide anything from your Master. Do you understand?

-Yes... I do.

I see his expressions get relaxed, and he brings his hand closer to my head, petting it. The feeling of having his hand pet my head is a complete bliss. I feel myself shiver in joy, and without thinking I rub my head against his hands. 

-That's right, you're my good puppy, aren't you?

I slowly throw my head back, and he rubs my chin and neck. The feeling of forgiveness fills my soul with joyness, and I wanted to be like this for a long while. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to think the same way. He abruptly takes hold of my chin and turns it to his eyes.

-You are my puppy. You're not to keep relations with anyone else, do you understand?

-Yes -I say quickly, trying to avoid getting my chin crushed by the strength of his hand. He takes a collar from his pocket and shows me it.

-That's right, forever mine. 

The collar is made of black leather, and has five o-rings on it. One in the back, one on the left side, one on the right side and one on each side of two protuberant d-rings on the front. He put it around my neck, and used a sculpted lock to lock the collar by passing it through the two d-rings. The lock was relatively heavy, but not uncomfortable. He added a straight metal bar to the o-ring on the back, and pulled me to one of the o-rings on the wall, making my movements very limited. He opened his leather jacket, and I could notice he was shirtless.  
The first think I noticed is how sculpted his body was. He has a very distinguishable pectoral area, as his shoulders were relatively wide. It seemed to match the swimmer type of body. He has very defined abdominal muscles, forming what's called a "six pack". He has a interesting lower body, as his thighs form a "v" around his abdomen. He looks like a model. His nipples, the second thing I've noticed, are pierced with a bar with a silver ball on each side. "Barbells?" I think, but the name sounds wrong. He doesn't have chest hair, nor he has hair on his abdomen, but I could see a small amount of blonde hairs forming a line slightly under his belly button. As I followed the line I couldn't help but look at his pants. The black jeans he used didn't seem too loose or too tight. Except in one place.

-Enjoying the view? -He asks, revealing a really big smirk. His teeth are so white it seems like he came out of a Colgate commercial, which is weird considering my teeth were never this white doesn't matter how much I brushed them. This thought was so quick to come that I just pondered about it whilst facing his crotch. I shouldn't have done that.

-I see, so you are a little curious, aren't you? 

This phrase snaps me back to reality, and I blush while repeatedly shaking my head back, which is hard considering the metal bar holding me practically still in place, and I vomit my words out: without coherence and messed up.

-N.no! I just got a little distracted and I ended up looking at it but it's not like it means anything because in the end it doesn't really matter because I was thinking about you and then your teeth and then I looked at it and I'm so so sorry!

When I finish my sentence, I have to catch my breath. Not even K understood what I just said.

-Sure. I got it. -He kneels in front of me, cupping my cheek with his hand. -Look, we can do it the good way or the bad way. You just have to work with me and it'll be alright, okay?

His voice sounds smoother than usual now, and he really seems caring. "I didn't want it to be that way, but he's given me food, he's kept me safe, he's kept me clean. Why shouldn't I trust him?" My mind spins, and in the back of my head I keep telling myself I shouldn't think this way, that I'm crazy and should take a moment to clear my thoughts, that I should fight it and try to make him stop, convince him I'm not ready. But I can't help it when the masculine scent of his skin is so close to me, the warmth of his hands feel so close, and his soul is so caring...

"I'll regret this".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my lazy ass is finally back. I know I was gone for a really long time, and I know that I promissed a new chapter right after the last one, and I do know there are no excuses that will make you forgive me, but I'm a persistent soul, so I'll try to explain it anyway: For the first period of time of this unlucky saga, I thought I had a terrible cold, because I couldn't breathe properly or do exercises for long... Thinking that it was a cold, I tried to rest to get better. I couldn't take care of myself properly, let alone write. So I went to the hospital, did some tests and x-rays and I discovered that what I really had was a lovely little tumour residing in my left lung. His name was Fred. Fred was a bitch.  
> Fred wasn't so little either, he was practically as big as a fist. Fred just had to go. So I went along with all the lovely burocracy of finding a good time to have my surgery done and until that day I was extra nervous because now I knew that Fred was Fred, and when you have a Fred inside of you, things change. Until my surgery I hated leaving home, had to do frequent check-ups and ate as healthy as I could, plus some other medicines, including Marijuana. So the day of the surgery finally came and Fred left my body for what I hoped was forever, and went home for two weeks of lying down and bitching about life. After that I confess: I forgot about the fic. I know, I suck, but it happens in the middle of this mess. And then I got another lung intruder: little tiny Fred number two. So now I have to smoke frequently in order to stop the growth, which makes me officially a high bored person. As I was bored, I remembered that I had this fanfic thanks to comments that I received via e-mail, and began wroting right away! So here it is! I feel a little rusty, but I honestly think I did good for a high bored person. I also got a job, which is amazing! So all is good now, and hopefully it'll stay this way <3 Thank you all so much for not giving up on me, and I love you all!  
> P.S.: I have officially hit the 100 kudos mark. I feel so happy I could cry! Thank you all soooooo much!  
> P.S.2.: The songs I heard the most during my recovery were "Hurting me" by Maria Mena and "Girl with one eye" by Florence and the Machine, even though I recently got a liking to "Feel it all" by Tokio Hotel.  
> P.S.3.: The collar I described is a modified version of the collars found at kittencream(.)com. Their collars don't actually lock, so I made up one that does, but it was 101% inspired by theirs. The bars and o-rings that I have and use (and described on the fanfic) are from a hardware store! For a straight metal bar that locks, we fused a "open and close" o-ring at each tip of the bar! Kinky people are really creative xD  
> P.S.4.: Smut's totally coming soon.


	11. It's all my fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: there is a LOT of stockholm complex + oral sex. This might be considered rape, so if you aren't confortable, please feel free to skip this chapter.

I breath in deeply, somewhere amongst the cloudiness in my mind I know that he will be... Disappointed if I don't feel like doing it. And I have an idea of what disappointing him might be. It would definitely affect me in a negative manner. Very, very negative.

I look up to him, scared, but with a burning sensation running quickly through my veins and pumping lava in my heart. 

-The good way... Master. -My voice is cracking in some points of the sentence, but he doesn't seem to car about it. He grins extremely widely and starts unbuttoning his pants.

I immediately regret my decision and feel the urge to cry once again, but I decide that I brought this to myself. It's my fault. I look down, swallow any leftovers of my pride and look up again, confident that I can pull myself through this.

-Good boy... -He says looking down at me, pulling the back of my head closer to his groin. He pulls his pants down, revealing a white pair of boxers with a bulging erection underneath them. I close my eyes, trying not to think about what's going to happen. 

I hear a deep chuckle, and his smell goes from masculine cologne to a salty, musky smell. I feel his hand under my chin, his thumb over my lips, going from side to side, pulling my bottom lip down gently. 

-Open up, the sooner we start the sooner we'll finish. -His voice is deep, harsh, sharp. It feels like a blade cutting the air.

I open my mouth widely, sticking my tongue out. I never did anything like this before, but I imagine that that's a good thing, from the gentle scratching and pleasant grunt that I've heard over me. He moves closer, and I feel a soft, rubbery, salty and large thing against my tongue and into my mouth.   
As I try to take it in and get used to the feeling I start choking. I cough as he keeps going deeper without an apparent care. I concentrate on breathing through my nose. He continues shoving it farther in my mouth, reaching the back of my throat. I immediately start gagging as he pulls it out, giving me a chance to breathe. He grips the back of my head stronger and start pulling it towards his body, putting it inside of my mouth again.   
Teardrops start forming on the corners of my eyes each time his tip hits the back of my throat. He starts going faster, moaning deeply and slowly as he does so. Breathing is harder with each thrust. He gets closer, shoving it deeper than before. The feeling is overwhelming, disgusting. He thrust deeper and deeper in my throat, making me gag multiple times. I hear the moans over me, he doesn't care.   
He grips my hair, moving my head frenetically, making my dizzy, in the beginning of a headache. He goes quicker and harsher, until he hits the back of my throat once more, and I feel a jet of a gooey substance hitting it. It feels like thick spit, disgusting, nasty. He takes it out as I choke, trying to swallow it. I feel more of that warm gooey substance across my eyes, mouth, hair and chest.  
He uses his thumb to remove it from my eye, putting it in my mouth. It tastes slightly salty, mucus like. I quickly try to swallow all of it, but it's so disgusting that I feel like puking. My headache is developing in a migraine, my scalp burns from all the pulling on it. I open my eyes, watching him put his boxers on, as well as his pants in a hurry. 

-What are you doing? -My voice is raspy and cracking, and I'm still trying to regain my breath.

-I'm actually in a hurry, I have very important things to do.

-W.wait. You're gonna leave me like like this? -He glares at me reprovingly. -Master...? -He softens his glare, closing his thick leather coat.

-Dave will clean you up. I'm sorry.

He leaves the room, leaving me dirty, with a migraine and nausea. I start crying as soon as he leaves. Not because of what he has done, I provoked him. I did it. I shouldn't have done it. 

 

It's all my fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... My phone broke. My iPad broke, everything broke. I was cringing with anger as I couldn't send everything to you guys, specially you being all so nice as you are! Well, that's it. This is the "smut" I talked about. I know you were probably expecting something sweeter, kinder... Anything but this. Don't worry, that moment will come someday. But trust me, this moment will come. I'm so sorry if anyone found this chapter triggering, I really do. I hope that some of you could enjoy it, it's necessary for the development, you know... I'm sorry.   
> Well, I did this while listening to "Heartbreak Hotel" by the king, Elvis Presley! I hope you enjoyed this chapter <3   
> I love you all sooo much. Thank you for all the comments and kudos. Words can NOT describe how happy I am <3 thank you for not giving up on me. Really.


	12. Thoughts

I didn't have any notions of time, but I was able to tell it was passing much slower than I would have liked. I felt disgusting, sticky with sweat, drool and his seed. I waited for the angel as I felt tiny, weak, with no meaning other than being a sex toy for a good person. "Yes, good.", I repeated to myself mentally. He had rescued me with the only condition that I was put to use as he wanted it. He kept me fed and bothered to start teaching me, even though I stupidly stopped his class and brought it on myself. I feared him, no doubts about that, but at the same time I thanked him. In a way I felt like I behaved in the same way that people behave towards God. Even though I no longer believe in Him, this is how I felt. I wasn't nice because I felt like being nice. I was being nice because I was scared of holy punishment, so I am now. Even though it's weird, this place made me ponder about life in a way I wouldn't if I was forever circled by roses in a big garden like I've always been. Dad always did his best to please me, even if that meant spoil me rotten, just because that was the style he had learnt. Now that I am here I can realize what it feels like to be completely defenseless, have sensory overloads every five seconds as if that was no big deal, see the world, or rather, my world, in a new perspective. My four red walls make more sense to me than all of the beauty I saw on the outside, even though I miss seeing it.

Isn't it weird how people who live in a beautiful, free, and colorful world fantasize about being in my situation? I, myself, never did, but I've read somewhere that some people do. Still, I have to wonder, would they want to change places with me? No, definitely they wouldn't. They probably would want a controlled environment with a non-trully-sadistic master. In that case, wouldn't the submissives have all the control? After all, they are the ones that can stop whatever little organized fetish play whenever they want. But when you really have nothing to do other than obey, would they want it? In all reality, I enjoy this red room more than other places such as the outsides. It's easier to understand, I have to do as I'm told, nothing else. I don't have to go through the dilemmas of other teenagers, and making a scene won't save me from this reality. Everything it's easier.

My Master created this world for me in what I think, considering the time I've been asleep, six days, and on the seventh day he decided he had done a good job taking care of his creation -a rubber version of a human dog- and it's confinement, so he used that day to let himself relax for a while. On his side there was an angel, question being if it was a fallen one or not at first, to help him control his little world; an angel named Dave. A kind, loving creature who, just like angel statues, is rock solid on the outside. My Master took care of this angel and ordered him to care for me, just like god did. Yes, god with a lowercase "g". That because god is no longer my god. My Master is my God, and my fate is in his hands.

He is my God now, and as weird as it may sound, I'm ok with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a chapter I've made while thinking about what John may think about in this situation. It actually takes me a long while to write chapters like this, because I REALLY try to get into the character. I know that in most time ipI fail, this is inevitable, but do know that I try. This one too me about three hours, and as you see, it's a very small one; however, I feel like it came out... Meh, alright I guess. Sorry if I triggered anyone by the EXTREME stockholm and religious comparisons in this, it wasn't my intetion. Thank you all so much for reading and we have reached 30 comments! No, my dear readers, you are not seeind double, my goal is to anwer every sigle comment, so that's why it looks like there's 60, but we have 30! I never expected to get so many comments or kudos, I mean, +100?! That's insane! You guys are insane! I guess that's why we get along so vefy well <3  
> Anyways, I didn't really listen to a song whilst writing this. I know, I know: "who are you and what have you done to Lily?!". Trust me, I am her (or am I?) but I tried to get really into the character, amd sice he was in a room all alone, I didn't listen to anything, HOWEVER, I HAVE to recommend "A place for my head" by Linkin Park. I just love it <3  
> I hope that you enjoy your reading <3


	13. The drawing

The door opens, bright lights flash against my dilated pupils. There he was, an angel sent by God Himself. My collar hugs my neck as I walk backwards from the scare. My dear angel has come to help me perfect myself for the next playdate with God. He brings in his hands a bowl and a metal bottle.

His heavenly stone-cold expression quickly turns to horror, making him drop his belongings. He quickly runs to me, kneeling in front of me, cupping my face with his hands as his thumb rolls over my swollen, red lips. 

-Oh shit! He told me he wouldn't leave you like that! -He screams, then calming himself down just ever so slightly as to say another sentence normally- Are you ok?

When he asks, I can see his eyes through his shades. His eyes look like a dark color, maybe dark brown.

-Yes, I am, Dave.

He shakes his head, taking his shirt off and cleaning the mess previously left there. He has a slightly defined torso, as you can see lines starting to define a six pack. His nipples are of a pinkish brown, his collarbones are breathtaking. Definitely an angel. His worry keeps ruining his beautifully sculpted face. 

-Are you sure? Did it hurt? He didn't -I quickly interrupt, despite being taught not to.

-No, he just used my mouth... It just hurts my jaw a little bit.

His expression relaxes slightly. He stares into my eyes, looking serious.

-I'm sorry... You don't deserve this.

I didn't necessarily feel sad, but tears started rolling down my cheeks. For the first time in a while someone treated me like a human. He acts like I matter for some reason, and for the same dumb reason that I can't put my finger on I trust him, even though I shouldn't. Even though I feel like no other person should or would ever do me good. I start breathing irregularly, I feel my muscles tense up and my temperature rise quickly. In the middle of blurry tears I see his hand leaving the shirt on the floor. 

I feel his warm hands around my face again, his thumb collecting my flowing tears this time. 

With a finger he touches my mouth. He draws my mouth like it's coming out of his hand, as if for the first time my mouth opened and if for a moment I forget what this feeling is like all I have to do is close my eyes for it to dissipate and restart. 

He chooses mine, out of all other mouths, to draw a story. Like my mouth was made with the purpose to be contoured and drawn by his finger in my face. Mouth of mine that opened in a smile under the touch of his finger.

He looks at me, closer and closer, as we start playing a stare game. Our eyes look bigger and bigger to each other as we grow closer, the stare game being turned in a confusing fight between the space between us and our faces. Breathing heavily, our mouths touch and fight against each other. Biting each others drawings, resting our tongues between our teeth, playing hide and seek in the deep caves where the thin air brings back his comforting scent and a big silence. His hands look for a place to hide in my hair, gently caressing my head. When we bite each other the pain is sweet, and if we drown in the simultaneous grasps of breath it's a beautiful death. There is now only one breath, and I feel myself shiver against him, as the reflection of the moon in a lake.  
My tears didn't stop flowing, they just changed into a beautiful metamorphosis in which they transformed themselves into tears of confusion. I think to myself of all the bad things that have happened to me over the time that I've been here. Not as many things as could have happened for sure, however still many things that I wished didn't happen. 

I felt his warm hand caressing my head in a comforting manner. I wonder how many times he has been in this situation. It'd be nothing but pure bullshit to think that I was the only one he has ever done this to. Then why did this feel so unique? 

He rubbed my hair as he repeatedly told me everything would be alright.

How would thing be "alright" at this point? He clearly didn't mean it, but I still tried my hardest to believe him, to hold that idea and don't let go. I didn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so fucking sorry. I've been way too busy lately, I'm a terrible person, I know. I really do know, and I'm sorry, I mean it. But I don't think I can change... -sunglasses and a leather jacket magically appear- I'm a bad, bad person. Bad to the bone.
> 
> So yeah. That's what happens when you make me draw a kissing scene: pleonasm. And comparissons. And metaphors. I'm not sorry about that at all, I love my pleonasm-ing moments.
> 
> I made this while listening to "Nothing to lose" which is from "@SuicideRoom", the movie. I wish I remembered the band, but I really don't. Thank you all for not giving up to me <3 I love you!!!

**Author's Note:**

> So... That's the first fic I've ever posted. It was written by the sound of my lovely dog Max licking his balls. Thank you for licking your balls Max. Such inspiration.  
> Anyway, thank you for reading and I'll try to post a chapter per week, so don't be afraid to creep me :3


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